


orange

by fallingyoonjin



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: A bit of angst maybe, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Universe switch, he's BAFFLED, i can never write just proper fluff for these two can i, post-izzy's leaving, slaxl besties, what i mean by that is that axl wakes up in an alternate universe where izzaxl are dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:29:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingyoonjin/pseuds/fallingyoonjin
Summary: “Morning. Left you some coffee in the kitchen, if you want some”, Izzy says all casual, like this isn’t the first time Axl has seen him in years, like he didn’t just wake up in his house half naked even though he swore he fell asleep on his own couch.
Relationships: Axl Rose/Izzy Stradlin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	orange

**Author's Note:**

> more izzaxl yayyy. tried something new with the capslock. i usually write lapslock, but thought maybe it'd be easier for some ppl to read it like this. don't really know how to feel about it but let's try i guess lmao.

Axl wakes up in a soft bed and with no headache, which would be _fine_ if he hadn’t gotten way too drunk last night and crashed on his lumpy couch. Did Saul carry him to bed? But that makes no sense, because Saul is mad at him again and wouldn’t even bother.

He cracks his eyes open, squinting against the sunlight. Jesus Christ, he never leaves the blinds open. Where the fuck is he?

The room is simple enough, a small but open space with a king-sized bed, a closet and some decorations. It’s cute, but Axl’s never seen it in his life. He thinks for a moment that maybe he got kidnapped while asleep.

“Well, only one way to find out, right?”, he mutters and clambers off the bed. He’s not handcuffed to the bed, thank god, so that’s a good sign. He realizes, as his bare feet touch the cold floor, that he’s only wearing underwear. He doesn’t see his clothes anywhere, so he opens the closet with a glance at the door. If someone kidnapped him, it’s only fair he gets to steal their clothes. Eye for an eye, bitch.

The closet is obviously divided to two sections, on the left is a lot of black and on the right a lot of colors. He skims through the black clothes, wanting something inconspicious if he has to sneak out and hide from a psycho killer. He pulls a simple T-shirt off the hanger and shrugs it on. Next, a pair of sweatpants. They’re a bit long, but do the job.

Axl contemplates on whether he should do some spy shit and sneak around, but finally decides he’s above all that and marches straight out the door. There’s a long hallway with some doors, but he suspects his kidnapper is at the end of it based on the muffled sounds of TV he hears. What kind of a kidnapper watches Jeopardy?

Axl storms in what apparently is a living room, ready to give the person there a piece of his mind, when he stops in his tracks. Jesus, is that…?

“Izzy?” it comes out small, disbelieving.

The man in question looks up from his book, an eyebrow raised. Axl holds his breath as their eyes meet. It’s actually fucking Izzy. He looks exactly the same as he did a few years ago, when Axl last saw him.

“Morning. Left you some coffee in the kitchen, if you want some”, Izzy says all casual, like this isn’t the first time Axl has seen him in years, like he didn’t just wake up in his house half naked even though he swore he fell asleep on his own couch.

“You-“, Axl starts and pauses. He has no idea what’s going on. Izzy raises his eyebrow even higher, because he’s a jerk like that.

“What about me? Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost? And why are you wearing my clothes?”

Axl gapes as he watches Izzy get up and place his book on the coffee table. “I- I didn’t know, I… What?”

Izzy presses a quick kiss to his temple as he passes. It leaves Axl frozen, cheeks flushing. “I’ll forgive you for that, ‘cause you’re my boyfriend. Just don’t stretch my shirt.”

Axl twirls around and follows Izzy to the kitchen. “You’re taller than me! I’m not gonna stretch shit. And what do you mean I’m your boyfriend? Why are you kissing me on my head and shit? Is this a prank? Where’s Saul?”

“Are you okay? Saul is probably home. Is this another episode? I thought you’ve been taking your meds.” Izzy comes closer to examine Axl’s face with a crease between his eyebrows, but gets his hand slapped away. He takes a step back, face now in a full frown, a sight Axl is way too familiar with. This time though, he doesn’t seem mad. Instead, he’s almost… concerned?

It makes Axl’s head spin, because while they’ve been friends for years, their story going way back before the band, Izzy and he always seemed to clash, never quite managing to be civil with each other. And now, here Izzy is, after years of no contact, grasping his chin tenderly.

“I’m fine, it’s not that.” Axl shakes out of Izzy’s hold and wraps his arms around himself. This is all wrong. He looks around the kitchen, noting the domesticity of it. There’s fruits in a basket, coffee waiting in the pot. There’s picture on the fridge door, messily arranged in random places. They’re pictures of Axl and Izzy. Pictures he’s never seen before. He thinks he’d remember if someone had taken a picture of them kissing in front of a sunset.

Izzy follows his gaze to the pictures and smiles softly. “I like that one”, he nods toward the sunset photo, “Our first date. You dropped food on me and couldn’t stop laughing. I couldn’t even be mad at you, you laugh rarely as it is.”

Axl feels a slight pounding in his temples and takes a rattling breath, turning away from the pictures. There’s nausea swirling in his stomach.

“Izzy. That’s not me.”

__

They’re sitting on the sofa, Izzy staring blankly ahead and Axl twisting his hands in his lap. There’s another photo on the coffee table of them, hugging and laughing at the camera. They look happy. It’s a surreal experience, seeing yourself and knowing it’s not you and it’s not Izzy, at least not _your_ izzy.

Next to him, Izzy takes a deep breath. He seems a bit troubled, but Izzy’s always been a calm, rational person. It seems like he’s not that different in this universe.

“So… you’re telling me you come from a different, what, dimension? And where you’re from, Things are different?”

And yes, it sounds completely insane when you say it out loud, but it’s the only logical explanation.

“Yes! You left the band a few year back and we haven’t talked since. We definitely aren’t… dating. I went to sleep in my own house, and woke up here. It’s the only way, it has to be.”

Izzy frowns. “So then… Axl, my Axl, is in your world?”

Axl shrugs. “I mean. Probably. He better not be fucking my shit up.”

Izzy lets out a tired chuckle and runs a hand over his face. “Well, I can’t quarantee that. You know yourself. Always in everyone’s shit.”

There’s a long pause. “You think I’ll ever get back?” Axl has to ask. Living with Izzy, being able to kiss him whenever he wants might be something he’s dreamed about for years, but it’s not really his world. It wouldn’t be right. Izzy doesn’t love _him,_ he loves this world’s version of him. This Izzy himself is not the Izzy Axl loves, it just wouldn’t be right.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so.” Izzy glances at him. “No offense. You might look like him, but…”, he lets his voice trail out. Axl gives him a slight smile, that looks more like a sad twitch. “I know.”

Both of them turn to stare ahead again.

__

It’s obvious Izzy is holding himself back. Axl catches him looking longingly, fingers twitching like he wants to reach for him when he passes. It makes Axl itch, makes him want to say it’s okay, that he can touch him, that he _should_. But that would be selfish, and his therapist says he has to stop taking so much from others. So he says nothing, even when the urge to know what kissing Izzy would feel like becomes almost too much to bear.

They’ve spent the day talking, telling each other about their worlds, figuring out everything that’s different, aside from the obvious. Turns out, he and Steven are good friends, attached at the hip. He and Saul are friends, but not as close. Axl doesn’t like it. Saul is his best friend, his partner-in-crime, the one who always has his back, even when they’re fighting. He always though it would be the same in every universe, every version of them that exists. Apparently not.

They also agreed that everything might go back to normal if they went to sleep. It’s a good enough guess, and easy to test. So here they are, in the same bed, trying to fall asleep. Axl is painfully aware of the warm body behind his back, breathing deep. It makes it hard to fall asleep. There’s also a part of him that doesn’t want to lose this. If he goes back, there won’t be an Izzy next to him. There’ll be just a cold, lumpy couch and the bitter realization that he’s alone.

There’s shifting behind him, before a tentative arm settles over his side. Izzy’s body presses against him, offering cozy heat. It shouldn’t make Axl relax, but it does anyway.

“Is this okay? I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m not used to sleeping alone”, Izzy murmurs against his neck. It sends shivers down Axl’s spine. Izzy smiles from behind him, he can feel his lips curving on his skin. He swallows.

“Yeah. ‘s fine.”

__

Axl wakes up with a groan. Fucking hell, his back is killing him. He freezes. Opens his eyes. The gray ceiling of his living room is staring back at him. He shoots up, wincing at the twinge in his spine. He’s back. A startled laugh escapes him at the realization. Holy shit, he’s back.

The sudden banging from his door jolts him. He glances at his watch. 09:45. He goes to open the door, already knowing who will be waiting on the other side.

Sure enough, the moment the door opens, Saul pushes right past him into the house. axl rolls his eyes. “Hi Slash, how are you? Good, me too, why don’t you come in?”

“Oh, shut up, I can come in without an invitation. Best friend privileges”, Saul calls out from his kitchen. He’s probably raiding the fridge again. Wasn’t he supposed to be mad at him?

“I’m about to revoke those right”, Axl grumbles. He’s happy to see Saul, relieved to hear him call them best friends. He’s suddenly very glad he didn’t get stuck in the other dimension. Or would be, if it weren’t for…

Memories of lips against his temple, fingers on his chin, a body against his back flood into his mind. There’s this sort of empty feeling inside him when he thinks about leaving Izzy there. At least he’s with his Axl now. Is it weird to be jealous of yourself?

Saul appears on the doorway, leaning against the frame. He’s munching on a sandwich. “Yo, you okay now?”

“Huh, why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I thought maybe you were sick. You were mad weird yesterday, asking ‘bout Izzy and shit.”

“Oh. Oh! No, I’m fine, I just… thought maybe it’d be time to see him again.”

Saul looks at him intently. “Hm. Okay, well, ‘m glad you’re feeling better.” He turns to go back to the kitchen.

Axl thinks about what he said. He lied, because it wasn’t really _him_ asking about Izzy, but… the thought is out there now, and it makes sense. It’s not like Izzy and he _fought_ , they parted because Izzy didn’t like the drug use and… okay, maybe axl was a part of the reason he left, but they hugged, so he couldn’t have been that mad. Izzy’s just not the type to reach out first, and Axl’s sense of pride and bitterness kept him from calling. Now though…

Squaring his shoulders, Axl marches to his bedroom, right to the phone sitting on his nightstand. He knows Izzy’s number from memory, he just hopes he hasn’t changed it yet.

He settles on the bed as he waits for Izzy to answer. He’s not used to feeling nervous, but there’s butterflies in his stomach and he feels jittery. It’s a weird feeling, especially since it’s Izzy, who he used to see every day. He never had to think twice before calling him back then.

“Hello?” Izzy sounds the same. It makes Axl squeeze his eyes shut, makes tears well up. God, he’s missed him.

“Izzy? It’s me, Axl.”


End file.
